


No Regrets

by ilsafausts (phoenix_cry)



Category: Mission: Impossible, Mission: Impossible (Movies)
Genre: F/M, Flirting, Fluff and Angst, Friendship, Male-Female Friendship, No Plot/Plotless, Serious Injuries, Team as Family, mission impossible fallout, mission impossible rogue nation, slight spoilers for Fallout, taking care of each other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-05
Updated: 2018-08-05
Packaged: 2019-06-22 09:04:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,270
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15578424
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/phoenix_cry/pseuds/ilsafausts
Summary: Prompt: “Any chance ur interested in writing a fix where ilsa gets hurt and Ethan and the team patch her up and angst an such?”While on a mission, Ilsa gets hurt saving a certain someone's life. Ethan and the team make sure she's going to be okay, each in their own way.





	No Regrets

**Author's Note:**

> After posting my first fic in this fandom (One Against the World), a lovely Anon asked if I could write a fic where Ilsa gets hurt and the team takes care of her. 
> 
> I hope something along these lines is what you had in mind, anon! 
> 
> Enjoy!

 

The pain tearing through her shoulder almost dimmed in light of the terror she had been feeling two seconds ago, watching the gunman set his sights on Ethan - and Ethan, for once, remaining oblivious to the danger.   

The scream of his name ripping from her throat in warning came a split second before her body tackled his to the floor - but not before the shot had been fired. The echo of her scream, as well as the gunshot, came together to form a terrible cacophony of sounds. 

Crashing to the floor, red-hot pain lancing through her shoulder, she heard another gunshot reverberating through the abandoned warehouse, this one fired by one of their own. She would recognize that sound anywhere. 

Then, silence reigned for a long moment, until it was broken by Ethan yelling her name frantically, followed by the other voices of her team. Clenching her jaw against the pain, she nonetheless couldn’t stop a groan from escaping her throat as Ethan scrambled to her side and began to check her shoulder.

Distantly, she could hear the others finish a sweep of the area, making sure there were no more hidden dangers lurking in the shadows.

“Ilsa, talk to me. Hey.” Ethan’s face came into blurry focus above her, his right hand cradling her face while the other put pressure on her shoulder. 

“‘M okay,” she mumbled and tried to get up, only to be stopped by his gentle but insistent grip on her good shoulder. “None of that, no jostling that shoulder more than necessary, until I’ve checked it more thoroughly,” he ordered and she rolled her eyes at his protectiveness, shaking off the fog that had been trying to settle over her mind. “It’s not like this is my first gunshot wound, Ethan.” 

“I know, I’m familiar with all of your scars.” He raised a meaningful eyebrow at her. “And now you’ll have one more to add to the collection.” 

“Oh gosh, but will you still find me attractive?” She joked, trying to downplay how much the hole in her shoulder was setting her nerve endings on fire.

Before he could answer, Luther interrupted their little back and forth. “This really isn’t the best time to flirt, guys. We need to go!” 

“Help me get her up.” 

“I really don’t need help getting up.” 

“I’ll carry you out of here, if you don’t let me help you, I swear to God.”

 “Oh, promises, promises.” 

“Okay, that’s it.” 

Ilsa was mortified as a little squeak left her throat, just as Ethan lifted her into his arms, making it look almost effortless. She knew she wasn’t heavy by any standard, but really? Did he have to be such a show-off? 

She resolutely ignored the butterflies in her stomach and the little voice in her head that was whispering “ _Oh, but you love it._ ” 

She sighed and resigned herself to her fate, relaxing into his arms as best as her injured shoulder would allow. A few feet into their journey, Benji joined them as well, keeping pace with them on their trip to the door and back to their van.

“Is she all right?!”

“ _She_ can hear you, Benji,” Ilsa grumbled. “And yes, I am all right. Mr. Overprotective is just overreacting, as usual. It’s not like they shot me in the legs.”

“Yeah, he tends to do that. It’s almost like every life matters, but his own. I do have to say he got slightly better at being a little less reckless since you joined our little team,” Benji told her, a slightly wicked glint in his eyes. “I wonder why that is?”

“That is an excellent question, Benji,” Luther piped in. “Maybe he’s trying to be less suicidal, now that he’s got something...or _someone,_ to stick around for?”

“You make a good point, Luther.” Benji agreed while pushing the warehouse door open for them, blinking in the sudden light. “Maybe it’s a certain badass, former British agent that managed to pull him out of his funk.”

Ethan looked down at her and gave her a long-suffering look, as if to say “ _Can you believe these idiots? How are we friends with them again?_ ” 

Ilsa just raised her eyebrows and lifted her good shoulder in a shrug in answer. “ _They were your friends first._ ” 

He gave a resigned nod. “ _Touché._ ” 

“Oh, look. They’re doing that thing again where they don’t talk, but still manage to communicate perfectly,” Benji declared, and reached for the van’s side door, sliding it open. Hurriedly pushing some of his tech out of the way, to make room for Ilsa, he gave Luther a look over his shoulder. “Can you learn this, you think, or is this a soulmate kinda thing.” 

“Probably the latter, if I had to guess.” Helping Ethan put Ilsa into the back of the van as gently as possible, he gave Benji a shrug. 

Waiting for Ethan to hop into the back as well, he closed the door after him, making his way to the driver’s side. “Don’t try to understand it, Benji. It’s their _thing_. It’ll just give you a headache otherwise.”

“Wise words, big guy. Wise words,” he agreed, hopping into the passenger seat. 

In the back, Ethan groaned. The handful of miles back to the safe-house had never before seemed so long.

 

*

 

Ilsa hissed as Ethan set the last stitch, having fished out the bullet that had still been lodged in her shoulder, previously. 

“Sorry,” he apologized softly, focused on finishing her stitches. Her shirt was laying in scraps beside the old table she was sitting on. A pity - she had really liked that shirt. At least she could probably still salvage her bra. A good scrubbing should get most of the blood out of the dark green fabric, she thought, giving it a cursory glance where it was still wrapped around her chest. 

“All done,” Ethan declared, setting the needle and thread down on the table beside her and reaching for gauze and some tape next. A few moments later, he finished seeing to her wound and began cleaning up the mess of bloody towels and the remnants of the first aid kit he’d left behind.

All the while not meeting her eyes.

On his third pass by her, she grabbed a hold of his wrist, a barely there touch, that made him halt in his steps anyway.

“Ethan. Look at me,” tilting her head to try and catch his eyes, she added, “Please.”

With a heavy sigh, he finally met her eyes. The guilt she saw in them almost knocked the breath out of her. Not wasting any time, she cradled his face between her hands, ignoring the sharp sting in her shoulder at the sudden motion. 

“You listen to me, Ethan Hunt,” she whispered fiercely, a fire burning behind her eyes. “This was _not_ your fault. Me taking that bullet was my decision, and mine alone.”

“Yes, but you took that bullet _for me_.”

Ilsa nodded. “Just like you would have done for me. Just like I would have done for Benji, or Luther, or hell, even for Brandt, and he still doesn’t even trust me. But I’d do it anyway because that’s what you do for your team. We depend on each other to have each other’s backs.” She swallowed hard at the memory of seeing that gun trained on his back. “Was I terrified to lose you, when I saw that guy about to shoot you? You bet I was. But that’s part of the job. We never know if we’re going to make it home alive or even in one piece.” Ilsa made sure his eyes were trained on her, and he was listening to her every word. “That’s why we have to make every living moment count. There’s no time for regrets.”

Ethan shuddered and closed his eyes at her words, pressing his forehead against hers and cradling her hands that were still resting against his face. The warmth of his hands seeping into her tired bones made her sigh in relief.

“I don’t want you to risk your life for me, for wholly selfish reasons,” he whispered, his breath ghosting over her face. “I don’t want to lose you. I _can’t_ lose you.” His grip on her hands tightened slightly, as if to reinforce his words with actions. “And I know that, if anyone outside this team ever figured out how much you mean to me, they’d make sure as hell to never put us on the same team again.” His eyes opened and bore into hers, the intensity behind his gaze making her catch her breath. “But again, I’m a selfish bastard when it comes to you, and I keep thinking that if I’m not there to have your back, then who will? Ironic, I know, when it’s always you saving me.”

“Shh, no. That’s not true. I’d still be on the run from MI6 if it weren’t for you. If you hadn’t brokered a deal to have Lane handed back to my former bosses, they’d have never stopped hunting me down. And before that, you cleared my name, made sure they knew Atlee was the one who’d gone rogue and not me. I can never thank you enough for that.”

“God, what a pair we make,” Ethan chuckled, backing away slightly to have a better look at her face. “Thank you for always having my back. And thank you for letting me take care of you, I know you dislike having to rely on anyone.” His raised eyebrow let her know what he thought about that. 

“As long as it makes you happy, I guess I can spare a few minutes of my time to have you patch me up,” she quipped. Sobering up with fake seriousness, she added, “Now shut up and kiss me, or what else does a girl have to do to-”

Ethan knew when not to waste any time, pressing his lips against hers in a gentle caress. A sigh left Ilsa’s own lips, before she took it upon herself to deepen their kiss. Her hand settling against his neck and playing with the fine hairs there, the arm of her injured side loosely wrapping itself around the small of his back, she spread her legs so she could pull him closer against her body.  

His fingers lightly caressed the side of her neck, making her shudder with longing. It had been weeks since they had had a chance to be this close and she had missed him terribly.

Benji clearing his throat behind Ethan made them pull apart hastily and she saw him and Luther standing in the doorway, the latter poorly suppressing his gleeful laughter.

“Sorry to interrupt, but maybe your life-affirming makeout session can wait until after we’ve finished wrapping Ilsa’s shoulder.” Benji admonished them, hustling over with a bandage and what looked like a self-made sleeve. 

“It is finished, Benji.” 

“Yes, I’m not wearing that sleeve. I can’t shoot or fight properly with that hindering my movement.” 

“Oh, right, because you’ll want to mess up your shoulder completely and never be able to do field work again, instead.” Benji glowered at them both, and Ilsa had to bite her lip in amusement. He was kind of adorable when he got this agitated. But she knew he was only concerned about her and indulging him, for now, wouldn’t hurt. Well, any more than her shoulder already did, anyway. 

“Fine, hand me that sleeve, then.” 

Benji gave her another look. “Allow me,” he said, and shooed Ethan to the side, taking over his place in front of her, making sure to keep a respectful distance.

Carefully navigating the sleeve over her head and her injured arm into the loop, he checked his handiwork for a second or two, before nodding, satisfied that it would do its job.

“Thank you, Benji.”

“You’re welcome. And thank you for saving Ethan’s ass again." 

“Anytime.” 

“Let’s hope we don’t have to make more of a habit out of this than it already is,” Luther grumbled, and, while also stepping closer to her and squeezing her good arm gently, he gave his oldest friend a long-suffering look. 

Ethan raised his hands in surrender, knowing when he was beaten. “Hey, I didn’t do it on purpose, I swear.” 

“Make sure it stays that way,” Luther ordered. “We can’t have Ilsa stuck in a hospital bed, while you run around playing superhero. You’re not invulnerable, and apparently, she is the only one who can keep up with you.” 

Ethan’s eyes locked back on hers and an almost goofy smile settled on his lips. “Yeah, she is.” 

“Oh, boy,” Luther groaned. “I think we’ve overstayed our welcome.” He made his way back to the door and motioned for Benji to follow him. “Just…make sure not to...jostle anything. Injury related.” He groaned again. “I really don’t wanna think about any other jostling that might be going on.”

Both Ilsa and Ethan laughed as the door fell shut behind their friends.

“Now, where were we?” Ethan asked and resumed his previous position, his hands settling at her hips.

“I believe you were closer still, a few minutes ago. Would be a shame not to continue exactly where we left off.” Using her legs to pull him closer, she squeezed her thighs slightly around his hips, making sure he stayed exactly where she wanted him.

“You’re right, of course. How foolish of me,” Ethan whispered and was about to kiss her again when she got the last word in. “Just remember - no jostling.”

His chuckle was lost in her mouth.

  
  
  
  



End file.
